


this band of gold

by cassanabaratheon



Category: Home Fires (UK TV)
Genre: F/F, very mild sexual references
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-23
Updated: 2016-04-23
Packaged: 2018-06-04 02:33:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 885
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6637816
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cassanabaratheon/pseuds/cassanabaratheon
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In the early morning, after she opens the blackouts and clambers back into bed, curling on her side facing her, she watches it catch in the spring light.</p>
            </blockquote>





	this band of gold

**Author's Note:**

> I started this a year ago and just procrastinated endlessly. This can be placed in between series 1 episode 5 and 6 roughly, falling between the timeline from March to May that those episodes cover and a great deal of ignoring what happened in episode 6 and then onto AU.
> 
> Established relationship fic.

She feels it whenever she touches her. The warmth of her palm, of her fingers – on her cheek, across her collarbone, her breasts, her hip, up the inside of her thigh – and then, after the heat, the fleeting graze of metal. She registers it dimly, pinpricks of awareness in foggy lust, a stark reminder of the man she still holds onto.

The promise.

The _lie_.

She doesn’t begrudge her that – not now, not ever – but she wonders, more and more she wonders, when it is _she_ who kisses her first, holds her hand and takes her to bed, how her touch would be without it.

 

* * *

 

In the early morning, after she opens the blackouts and clambers back into bed, curling on her side facing her, she watches it catch in the spring light. Alison’s hand rests between them, above the covers that they have twisted and rumbled during the night (only after they had panted and moaned, fisting the sheets and arching up off the mattress, gasping each other’s name). The gold band that encircles her finger looks deceptively warm and, very gently, Teresa runs her fingertip over it.

 

She draws Alison out of her dreams with every caress, the light brushings of a thumb across her fingers and delicate skin of the back of her hand. Feeling quite bold, she begins to gently twist the ring around, loosening it from its hold. She lets her do it, now open-eyed and observing quietly, but, when Teresa is to slip it over the first joint, Alison draws her hand free and pushes it back down securely.

 

The silence strains for a few moments and Teresa does not dare to move. Eventually, Alison’s hand settles in the place it had previously occupied and Teresa lets out a small sigh. Taking her hand, she brings it up to her mouth, placing a kiss on the backs of her fingers and the ring presses against the corner of her lips; cool, hard and immovable.  Alison shifts, edging closer till their knees are touching. Her smile is kind, Teresa sees, as if she understands the thoughts that chase around in her head. Her kisses are kinder still, sweet until heat blooms beneath them and all else is then forgotten.

 

* * *

 

 

She spies it from the corner of her eye as she moves away from Alison’s desk where she had been hunting for her school papers in between writing Christmas cards. With brows furrowed, she reaches to pick it up from its place in front of the photograph on the mantle. There is confusion on her face when she looks up at Alison who comes in, book in-hand, that she means to return to the overburdened bookshelf of hers.

She observes the scene with a slight right-tilt of her head and her eyes dart once from Teresa’s palm where the ring lies, back to the photograph. Then, after she sets the book down and straightens a stack that seemed ready to topple at any moment, she crosses the floor to where Teresa stands. She lifts the ring from her and puts it back where Teresa found it.

She smiles faintly.

“I thought it was time. At least when we are alone.” There’s a small pause before she continues, “They will all still expect to see it. To be without it will undoubtedly lead to questions…” she bites down on her lip. “I hope you understand?”

Teresa takes her hands into her own and her thumbs rub soothingly across her knuckles, heart fluttering when she only feels skin and no metal. She glances at the ring, at the photograph, and then back to Alison, who is watching her with some apprehension.

“Yes,” she says simply, smile wide and assuring. She draws her in for a tight hug, arms wrapping around her shoulders, that she feels relaxing as Alison let’s out a sigh, relieved and happy, face pressed against her neck.

A series of short barks breaks up their embrace, both a little surprised at their slightly damp eyes that they blink and wipe at surreptitiously. They clasp hands as they look down at Boris who observes them both with, what they assume, is impatience.

“You’d best take him for a walk,” Teresa tells her, amused as the dog lets out another bark.

“Do you want to come?” Alison asks, squeezing her hand once before letting to go to hunt for Boris’ lead.

Teresa sighs and makes her way back round to the desk, plopping herself down in the chair. “I’m afraid I have to battle paperwork.” She nods towards the mantle. “Do you need…?”

Alison follows her gaze and considers a moment before she shakes her head. Teresa watches her don her coat, hat and gloves before securing Boris. “Well, we won’t be long.”

“I’ll be here,” she says and Alison stills at the door, sending her a warm smile which is returned in kind.

After Alison leaves with Boris (Teresa hears her telling him to behave himself and she chuckles), she leans over to switch the wireless on, lowering the volume so the music is a gentle hum in the background. Once more, she regards the wedding band and George with a soft expression, before heaving in a sigh as she sets to work just as the wintery sun begins to set.


End file.
